When I went to university, I got work experience at my local radio station, and I used to spend hours in what was then the CD library. I was supposed to be filing the CDs, but I was actually randomly picking stuff up and blaring it out of the speakers.
I do covers for CDs and LPs of music that I like, reissues of old-time music, and then I'm inspired to make some kind of drawing based on this love of the music. I don't do album covers or CD covers for groups or musicians I don't like or have no interest in.
I have an iPod, but I do still love CDs. There's something nice and tangible about a CD. I'm a mixture of old and new - I love my sewing machine, but I've also embraced new technology. The iPad is what did it for me - it's extraordinary.
Right after the keynote in which Steve Jobs introduced the iPod Shuffle, I went backstage with one question in mind: What makes an iPod an iPod? By then - January 11, 2005 - I had staked my own claim to iPod expertise, having written a 'Newsweek' cover story about Apple's transformational music player, and I was writing a book on it.
I always take an iPod and iPod speakers so that when you're in the hotel room you can have it on, or when you're at the beach you can put it on quietly. Music can really set the tone for your holiday.
A CD these days is not all that convenient, and it doesn't bring enough fidelity to make you put up with that inconvenience. So, nobody buys CDs anymore.
No one listens to CDs anymore. Who even owns a CD? I used to bring my CDs to shows, and it was, like, a guarantee that everyone would buy one. Nope! Not anymore.
You can't take up all the music bins at a CD retail outlet with Spice Girls CDs and leave nothing for the Joan Jett catalogue.
But to put out a greatest hits on one CD was totally impossible, I just couldn't do it. The best compromise was to put out two CDs - Early Days - which is what it is - and Latter Days.
My iPod rumbles again. It's not actually an iPod. It doesn't play any music and the earbuds are just for show. It's a gadget that Sandor put together in his lab. It's my Mogadorian detector. I call it my iMog.
I've got an iPod but I don't even use it. It's just that, you know, you've got to like plug it up to the computer. And then you've got to download songs. And put them in your playlist. I'd rather just get the CD and pop it in. I'm cool with the Discman. The Walkman.
In the course of transferring all my CDs to my iPod, I have found myself wandering the musical hallways of my past and reacquainting myself with music I haven't listened to in years.
There are those who say the music industry must adapt to a wired world. They point to the decades-long rise in CD prices, even as manufacturing costs came down, and to data that shows Napster may actually increase sales of CDs by music-hungry customers as evidence that the music industry is simply afraid of a new technology.
If you tell people they can't burn CDs of their music, as almost every current legal music service has done, or they can only burn one CD with a track or pay per track per burn extra, nobody is going to go for it.
I don't have an iPod. I don't get the whole iPod thing. Who has time to listen to that much music? If I had one, it would probably have Sinatra, Beatles, some '70s music, some '80s music, and that's it.
I like listening to music on a Discman, where the CD spins, and the fact that it's weird to listen to something on a Discman when most people have an iPod, even though those have an internal hard drive that's spinning, too.